


Don't Go Breaking My Heart

by Janina



Series: Don't Go Breaking My Heart [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jaime is a sweetheart, Romance, Sansa gets happiness, Undercover Lover Theory, jealous!Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: from a prompt on Tumblr: Can I ask for JaimeSansaJon one shit cause I really really need to see Jon jealous over Jaime post boatbang. I already saw one in AO3 and I LOVED ot but since you are one of my fave Jonsa writers and you're a brilliant writer, I wanna see you take on the whole thing especially Jon's POV. Please, please. Thank you.





	Don't Go Breaking My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I made this more about Jaime and Sansa than Jon.

****

**Sansa**

It had started as a game. A way to get back at Jon for his betrayal. For betraying his family, despite the fact that he was _half_ Stark, and also a way to get back at him for how he'd broken her heart. Not just for bending the knee to the Dragon Queen (and oh, how Sansa's blood boiled when she saw the other woman talking so haughtily about things she knew nothing of!), but for ripping her heart out when he had confessed he'd actually lain with her. The man she thought she'd loved (despite the fact that she believed him to be her brother) was now her cousin and though at one time she'd hoped that perhaps he might return the feelings she had developed for him, now she found she could not get past his bending the knee and laying with _that woman._

__Sansa supposed that was why she had confided in Jaime about Jon's true parentage, despite the fact that he was supposed to be their enemy and Jon, for now, did not want Daenerys to know she was his aunt. Jon wouldn't tell her why, though Sansa had her guesses._ _

__Sansa could scarce even look at him. While she'd been taking care of the North in his absence _for him_ , he'd been doing everything she had warned him _not to do_. What, she wondered, was the point of it all then? The point of fighting for Winterfell if all he was going to do was turn his back on it and kneel to some Targaryen woman who knew nothing of Westoros, and who definitely knew nothing of the North. _ _

__Daenerys thought they'd bend the knee to her._ _

__She was wrong._ _

__They bent the knee instead to Sansa._ _

__As had Jaime Lannister._ _

__"I know jealousy when I see it," Jaime said to her one night over cups of ale in her solar. Jaime found it endlessly amusing that she drank ale. And that she drank ale with him._ _

__Sansa just gave him a warning look over her cup, which caused him to laugh._ _

__"I'm no stranger to loving someone you shouldn't either," he said._ _

__"Especially when you're related to them," Sansa drawled._ _

__This caused Jaime to laugh yet again._ _

__"You know what I never got to do?" he asked as he leaned forward, his voice taking on that low rumble he used when cooking up mischief. "And it's something I always wanted to do."_ _

__Sansa leaned forward, smiling, feeling a little like maybe she _wanted_ some mischief. "Tell me."_ _

__"I never got to make Cersei jealous. She had me, always. And she knew it. She wielded that power she had over me..." He shook his head, as if trying to rid himself that very power she'd had. A part of him, she thought, would always belong to Cersei._ _

__He looked at her, smiling again. "How would you feel about making Jon jealous?"_ _

__Sansa sat up straight and arched a brow. "How?"_ _

__Jaime gestured to himself. "By using me."_ _

__Sansa frowned. "By using you? Haven't you had enough of that, Jaime?"_ _

__“Don’t go worrying about me now, Sansa,” he said lightly with a wag of his finger. “That would be a mistake.”_ _

__“Why do you want to help me?”_ _

__“Can’t it be out of the kindness of my heart that I do this thing for you?”_ _

__“It could be. But people, I find, rarely do things out of the kindness of their hearts - if such a thing exists anymore. So, what do you have to gain from my happiness? If such a thing is possible at this point.”_ _

__“Perhaps I have an affinity for broken and injured things,” he said softly._ _

__“And which one am I? Broken or injured?”_ _

__“Injured, not broken.”_ _

__“Are _you_ broken, Jaime?”_ _

__He met her unwavering gaze straight on. “I believe that I am.”_ _

__“I don’t believe that you are. You’re here. You’re fighting. You’ve pledged yourself to me and to our cause.”_ _

__“Don’t think I am one of those knights you dreamed of, Sansa. That would be another mistake.”_ _

__She smiled. “I don’t believe in knights anymore. I look for what a person is capable of. How much they can give. I look for potential. Not based on flights of fancy, but based on what they show me, and what they hide.”_ _

__“And you believe that I have potential? That I have more to give?”_ _

__“I do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be offering your services.”_ _

__He smiled at her, laughed a little. “You’re not what I thought you were.”_ _

__“I was,” she said wistfully and looked into her cup. She looked at him. “I learned. You are too.”_ _

__“So then, the Dragon Queen. What potential has she got?”_ _

__“Pfff. None that I can see.”_ _

__Jaime burst out laughing and Sansa couldn’t help but laugh with him._ _

__“Is that your jealousy talking?” he asked._ _

__“No, it’s my observation. I see some good in her, but I also see a blinding need for power that overrides that goodness. She’s not thinking of the good of the people she wants to rule; she’s thinking of the good of herself once she does them this service of defeating the dead.”_ _

__“She reminds me of someone,” Jaime murmured and sipped his ale. “Do you think you’ll be able to forgive Jon for bending the knee? Or for fucking her?”_ _

__She sighed and stared into the fire. “I don’t know.”_ _

__“Perhaps if you sort out one transgression you can later sort out the other one .”_ _

__“And you’re here because you’ve sorted out Cersei’s transgressions?”_ _

__“Hers are a lot longer than Jon’s.”_ _

__“Be that as it may, I…feel…betrayed.” Tears stung her eyes and she put her cup down beside her on the bench._ _

__Jaime slid closer, putting his own cup down and wrapped and arm about her shoulders. He drew into him and rested the side of his face atop her head. “Just follow my lead, Sansa, and see where it takes you.”_ _

__She didn’t understand why this was so important to him, but she agreed to play along nonetheless._ _

__****_ _

**Jaime**

Maybe it was because he’d always been vulnerable when it came to Cersei. He understood betrayal from someone you loved and counted on. Trusted. He understood the dagger through the heart feeling when that person was not at all what you had built them up to be in your mind.

Sansa Stark could say all she wanted that she didn’t believe in knights, but she had believed in Jon Snow. He was as close to being the knight she’d dreamed of as anyone he’d ever met.

And after his family had ruined her…beaten that idyllic young girl out of her, he felt he owed it to her to help. Shouldn’t someone get a happy ending in all this war, this muck, this…absolute _shit_?

He respected Sansa Stark. She had survived his family. Survived Joffrey and Cersei – survived Littlefinger and Ramsay Bolton. And here she was. The Queen in the North. He watched how hard she worked to take care of her people, and he saw how much they loved her.

The Dragon Queen had her followers, but she could never hope to gain the love Sansa had earned from her people for the simple fact that she did not _know_ them. Daenerys Targaeryen wanted to remake the kingdoms according to her vision, and perhaps her vision was altruistic and pure, but her methods were not.

He wanted to help Sansa for Sansa. Because he believed in her and she was, aside from Brienne, the purest person he knew. By being close to her, he felt perhaps he could be absolved of all the terrible things he’d done - including shoving Bran out of that tower. This time doing something “for love” meant something entirely different. 

The following morning, as the Great Hall was beginning to fill up, Jaime approached Sansa at the front of the room. Jon would be arriving soon, but for now she was alone except for her sister and Brienne who sat nearby. He placed his hands on the table and leaned in close to her. She looked at him, startled, and he smiled languidly at her.

“What are you about?” she murmured.

“Any minute now Jon and the Dragon Queen are going to come through that door. Tell me when he enters.”

Her eyes flicked past him and then settled back on him, her lips now pursed. “They’ve arrived.”

“Laugh.”

“Pardon?”

“Laugh as though I’ve said something witty.”

“Perhaps you should say something witty then,” she said with a smile and a twinkle in her blue eyes that made Jaime wonder if she knew just how seductive it was.

“Daenerys often appears to have sucked on one of those lemons you enjoy so much,” he said.

She burst out laughing then. Even better. This laugh was genuine. And contagious. He laughed as well and then slid his hand over hers. “Good girl.”

He turned then and was faced with a Jon Snow who looked like he wanted to remove Jaime’s head with his bare hands. Jaime smirked at him, bowed his head, and went to sit by Brienne.

****

**Sansa**

Sansa supposed she should have been paying better attention to Jon’s reactions, and at first she did. It was rather hard to ignore when he dragged her away from everyone after a meeting in the Great Hall and demanded to know just what she was doing with the Kingslayer.

“That name is old and tired,” she said bitterly. “He has a name. Call him that.”

“He has no honor, Sansa,” Jon growled at her.

“And you do? Let’s not forget what you’ve done.”

“Have you forgotten how he shoved Bran out a window?”

“No, I haven’t. Have you forgotten how your Queen burned Sam’s family?”

“She’s not my Queen,” he said harshly.

“You do realize that’s what happened when you bent the knee? You made her your Queen. And Jaime has made me his.”

“Sansa,” Jon said wearily. “There are things you don’t understand. Things I can’t tell you right now…”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said. “Good day, Jon. I’m sure your Queen is looking for you.”

She stormed off and found Jaime standing at the end of the hall waiting for her. He looked at her questioningly, no doubt having noticed how Jon had secreted her away.

“He is as insufferable as always,” she said and kept going until she was out of the castle. She hoped the cool air would stop the tears she felt wanting to fall.

She hadn’t realized that Jaime had followed her until he was gathering her in his arms. She also hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed that embrace until she was sinking into it.

****

**Jaime**

Because he never learned, Jaime didn’t give up.

He might have also been having fun rattling Jon. It was just so _easy_ to do. He enjoyed the glares and growls Jon sent his way. He enjoyed that he had legitimate suggestions to offer for going into battle and Jon was forced to listen to him.

But most of all, and probably the most dangerous part of this: he enjoyed making Sansa smile and laugh. He enjoyed being good at something other than battle and sword fighting – he could comfort one Sansa Stark, his Queen in the North.

When she turned that smile and those blue eyes on him, he found himself rendered powerless to do anything but want to please her and keep her smiling and laughing. If Jon happened to notice, then he was doing his job.

If Jon happened to not be around to see, well…

Well…

In the training yard, Sansa would often watch him spar with Brienne for a while, and Jaime found himself showing off for her. Brienne would often roll her eyes and up the ante on him, knowing full well what he was doing. 

And then, one afternoon, Jon asked Jaime to spar with him. Sansa was watching, he knew that, and Jon knew it too for he'd made a point to look up at her. So, Jon wanted to show off as well apparently. 

"Very well then," Jaime said. 

Jaime got the sense rather quickly that this was not a match meant for practice. This was a battle. For Sansa. 

It was a battle Jaime meant to win. 

Jon was brutal, and Jaime held his own quite well. He could see how Jon had been named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and how he competed with Jaime for the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. 

Sadly, the session did end with Jaime on his arse in the dirt and Jon's sword pointed at his heart. "Stay away from my sister," Jon growled. 

"He'll do no such thing," Sansa said as she came over to help Jaime up. 

Jaime held back a smirk as he allowed Sansa to help him to his feet. 

"Are you all right, Jaime?" she asked softly, and ran her fingertips over the cut Jon had given him on his cheek. 

Jaime smiled down at her, wondering if she was actually concerned or if this was an act all for Jon. He rather hoped she was actually concerned. He felt himself leaning in to her touch as he smiled down at her. "I am well, Sansa. It was just a bit of exercise is all." He looked over at Jon. "Right, Jon?"

Jon did not seem to appreciate calling their fight "exercise". 

"Well, it's enough for today," Sansa said. "Come, Jaime, let's get that cut looked at."

"If looks could kill I'd be dead quicker by that scowl than by his sword," Jaime drawled when they were out of earshot of Jon. 

Sansa burst into laughter and Jaime smiled broadly. He let her lead him inside to Sam who cleaned the cut right up. When Sam left to take care of another matter, the two stayed behind in his quarters, Jaime fumbling with some kind of tincture on one of Sam's wooden tables. 

"Sansa?"

"Hmm?"

"Was your worry over a little scratch for Jon's benefit?"

"No. Why do you ask that?"

Jaime set the tincture down. "I just wondered."

She came over to him, a soft smile on her pretty pink lips. She leaned up and kissed the spot just under the cut on his cheek. "I truly was concerned, Jaime."

And then Jaime did something truly stupid: he turned his head and kissed her. Right on the lips. 

Startled, Sansa reared back and looked at him, eyes wide. 

Trying to stave off the feeling of rejection that he clearly saw in her eyes, Jaime shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know--"

But then she kissed him. 

Jaime groaned and grabbed her about the waist. He kissed her the way he'd been wanting to for the past few weeks. His confessions came spilling out as if he'd never learned that baring ones soul was not something one should do. 

"He doesn't deserve you. He's a fool. I don’t think I'm any better and I know that I don’t deserve you either, but I know a Queen when I see one and that woman is not it. You are the strongest woman I know. Smart and brave and gentle and kind. Your affections are wasted on him."

Sansa caressed the side of his face and she seemed to be weighing his words. Jaime felt for those few seconds that ticked by that he'd lost her. He'd gone too far, and he should have kept his mouth shut. 

He didn't get his heart’s desire at the end of this story; he was never meant to. He'd live for her and he'd die for her but he was never meant to have her.

She leaned up and brushed her lips against his in a feather soft kiss that had him wanting more, so much more. He held back. He'd done too much already, said too much.

"You do deserve me, Jaime," she whispered.

Jaime looked at her in awe. He was endlessly in awe of her. "Sansa," he croaked and he felt his eyes welling up in tears. This couldn't be...

She smiled. "You do."

Jaime snatched her up in his arms, holding her tight against him as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. 

“And Jon?” he asked breathlessly. 

She blinked. “Jon who?”

He laughed and wrapped her up in his arms, just breathing her in. “I swear I’ll do right by you,” he said. “I’ll never give you cause to doubt me.”

“I know, Jaime.”

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear and shut his eyes tight, praying he heard it back. 

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. 

And because it was her, because it was Sansa and she was all the love in the world he had always wanted and never received, he allowed himself to cry. She ran her fingers through his hair and Jaime found himself reborn. 

****

**Jon**

It burned to see them together. It made him ache to watch Sansa bestow her teasing smiles, her laughing smiles, and her tender smiles on the Kingslayer.

She never paid him any mind, only when duty called for it. Otherwise, she had no use for him. And he knew why. 

But if she only knew the reasons why he’d done what he did. If she only knew that he did it to protect her, to protect the North, to protect his family…he _needed_ those damn dragons for the upcoming battle with the dead!

Yet he’d never told her his plans so how could he fault her for how betrayed she felt. Even Arya was cold to him sometimes. Especially when Daenerys was around. Daenerys who didn’t understand why he didn’t visit her bed again. 

He’d never wanted to the first time. 

Now, as he watched Sansa on the arm of Jaime Lannister, their heads bent together as they whispered to one another – they were always fucking whispering to each other – he felt a rage and a jealousy so deep he felt it might choke him. 

This was not how it was supposed to go. Sansa was supposed to be his. _His._

“Sansa!” he heard himself shout. 

Sansa looked up and over her shoulder at Jon who strode over to the couple in the courtyard. 

“Yes, Jon?” she asked, not even looking at him directly. 

It was time to tell her the truth. 

“Could I have a moment of your time?” he asked.


End file.
